Tomorrow I have to hand in my story for my class to read and criticize me again. (grrr!!!) I have to make it better than the last one. So I wanted to start early and, you know, have a lot of time editing it. Oh but that is not happening. Again I am waiting until the last minute. Here is part of it:
Olivia did her best thinking in the
bathroom. She chalked it up to not only being conceived in a bathroom but being
born in one also. A story her parents loved to tell and retell. At dinner parties.
At church. At the doctor’s office. At home, in front of her prom date. And
probably at her wedding. If she ever got married Which at this very moment she
was not thinking about, even though she was in a bathroom and she did her best
thinking in the bathroom.
She was in a
bathroom of a man, however marriage was the farthest thing from her mind. Right
now she had to find an escape, She would laugh right now if it wasn’t so embarrassing.
Trapped in a deranged one-armed man’s apartment. Or more specifically a
deranged one-armed concert pianist’s creepy apartment.
She should have
been warned when she stepped into his cold and dark apartment. However she was
fascinated by his arm and then spent the next awkward moments trying not to
focus on his arm.
“Hi.” He said with
a quick smile, gone before she had time to really notice it. His voice sounded
young and reminded her of a girl, it sounded nicer than it had on the telephone.
His hair was blonde and chopped very short. Chopped was the right word for it
was uneven and frayed as if someone had been cruel and played a prank on him
with very dull scissors. His shirtless body was browned and scarred. His left
arm rippled with muscles and his right arm was gone. He reminded Olivia of her
old Barbie’s boyfriend the time when he dumped Barbie at the alter for Barbie’s
younger blonder sister and Barbie had gotten mad and ripped his arm off at the
socket.
“Hi.” She said her
hand going out automatically. As soon as she did it she froze and heated up at
the same time. Her arm dangled there unreciprocated and he looked at it for a
moment before glancing back up at her.
“Excuse me if I
don’t shake your hand.” He brushed past her and shut the open front door behind
her. She turned trying to think of an apology that didn’t sound forced and
strained. That was when she saw Natalie Portman.
Haha... it is a very strange story. If you want to read the whole thing when I am done you can email me and I'll send it to you.
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